I’m not a huge fan of winter. I love seasons but the one that seems to last the longest here in Canada is not my favorite. Growing up in Texas, there are a lot of things I’m learning about this season as I raise my girls in a cold weather climate. I’ll name a few of my least favorite aspects of winter to fuel my complaining: Ellie is sick all winter and the rest of us are sick half of the winter, putting jackets and gloves and boots and scarves and vests and neck gators on children while in a rush to leave the house is my biggest nightmare, I tend to forget our diaper bag in the car overnight and arrive at places with frozen baby wipes, Ellie has very dry skin which is made worse this time of year, and it is dark when I wake up in the morning and dark before Travis gets home from work, just to name a few that come to mind right now. But when we spend weekends up North, when I can stay in my sweatpants all day, and I have a gallon of baby oil on hand for Ellie, I realize that I actually believe winter is aesthetically the most beautiful (although not my most enjoyable) season of all. And it reminds me that I love snuggling by a fire and drinking hot chocolate. That playing in the snow makes you feel like a kid again. That a four year old fits perfectly on the front of your sled. That rosy cheeks and fluffy coats are adorable. That Mya thinks sunshine on the snow is actually glitter from the sky. That snow can be the quietest sound nature can provide. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still counting down the days till spring, but this last weekend I actually had a few moments when winter took my breath away by it’s beauty.
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